


Dreams of a Reaper

by Haishe



Category: Tokyo Ghoul, Tokyo Ghoul:re, tokyo ghoul :re
Genre: Angst, Gen, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Self-Harm, suicide TW
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-06-12 13:59:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15341358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Haishe/pseuds/Haishe
Summary: What does the Reaper dream of to find his moment of peace?





	Dreams of a Reaper

**Author's Note:**

> Just some more Reaper nonsense, please do leave your feedback! It is very appreciated!

The room felt of solitude, its air heavy and murky, the lights dim and barely visible and everything seemed a bit too clean for someone who couldn’t go a day without breaking another goddamn chair.

Sasaki Haise entered the apartment that he had leased not too long ago, he needed a new place after the ‘incident’ in the previous one. This place wasn’t anything special, run of the mill actually, with its pristine walls and lavish furnishings. Being the CCG’s reaper paid well, after all, the price of blood or at least the price of the blood he hunted was higher than the scum he remembered tearing apart years ago.

Ah, the hunts. The only part of his day that felt as though there was some semblance of meaning in his life. The way his Quinque would slice through his unsuspecting foes. The precision of his strikes only rivalled by the ferociousness behind them, what he loved more than anything, however, was to stare into the eyes of his victims as they went cold. Seeing the light go out for under their lids, their lips sag and their bodies convulse, he could almost picture it happening to himself and that was all the solace that he could get these days.

He threw his briefcase on one of the sofas in the living room as he stepped into the kitchen to pour himself a mug of blood wine, getting himself as drunk as he could, made it easier to sleep, something he’d been having a hard time doing for months.

He rubbed his temples, slipping his fingers along the bags underneath his eyes, he’d jump at any chance to take another shift at work, more paperwork? Another case? A 3 am cold call? Anything that would make it easier for him to ignore what lurked in his bedroom, but tonight he’d unfortunately done too good of a job and had nothing left to do, except greeting whatever mundane horrors his mind had conjured for him, for a man who had lived through some gruesome torture his mind would always find the silliest ways to fuck with him.

Reliving memories of a day at Anteiku where Nishiki and Touka fought so badly that Nishiki ended up losing his teeth (and his dignity, but that assumes he had any, to begin with), or the time he and Touka were in the shop so late that they ended up sleeping shoulder to shoulder in one of the booths. It wasn’t that the memories were painful, it was how vivid they could be, the clarity, the smell, the feel, all of it culminating in the realisation that it was all gone, and all because of him, his weakness, his self.

He slouched down on his bed, his mug of wine half empty already, as he began to take off his tie and jacket, his eyes were already half shut, his arms and back aching profusely from all the torment he would put on himself just to get through the day, maybe if he just took a painkiller he could sleep easily tonight? Haise smirked at the thought that had just dared enter his mind, how foolish.

He tossed three tablets from the nearby bottle into his mouth, taking a big swig from the mug to drown them in as he fell backwards. His eyes searching the ceiling for any sort of distraction, but all that he could see was the blank expanse of nothingness that only made his mind wander faster. He tossed and turned, his hands feeling alien against the smoothness of the cottons on which he lay, the calloused, scared palms that had seen a hundred deaths unable to settle against the soothing gentleness of his surroundings. It felt, just like most moments in his days, unreal, undeserved, the air thick with the weight of his unworthiness. Why was it so damn hard to fall asleep, he mused laughing to himself how pretentiously he could think sometimes, to associate so much weight and meaning to his life was just another one of his mistakes, just as it had always been. To find meaning in the suffering is to act as though his suffer and therefore his life means, or in fact was worth something, something he knew now to be a bigger lie than he could have ever thought.

* * *

There was sleep, then there were dreams and then there was this, this horrid state Haise would find himself in, the floor a checkerboard, the vast nothingness of what lay before him tightening the grip on his chest, his brow overflowing with sweat and his eyes wavering, unable to focus.

“Hello, again, Kane-”

“It’s Haise Sasaki.” Haise spoke sternly, his eyes focusing on the pale figure sitting on the chair behind him, the figure’s feet shackled to nothing, his hands by his sides with one digging into his own palm and his eyes, his hauntingly dead eyes, nothing lay behind them, no purpose, no reason, just misplaced anger, resentment and tiredness and they were now gazing fixedly into his own.

“Whatever you like to call yourself, won’t change what you really are.” The figure snickered, his voice lacking the usual snarly, inhuman disconnect, tonight it carried a lot more, detachment.

“Please enlighten me, oh wise one, sitting on high.” Haise mockingly retorted, no matter how tired he was he could always muster enough energy to show this mopey bastard his place.

“Alone.” and just like that Kaneki appeared behind Haise, his hands gripping the base of Haise’s neck and his mouth right against his ear, the cold steel of his chains against Haise’s shoulders.

“For all of your posturing, you crumble really easily, don’t you, Haise.” Kaneki mocked, taking a step back to see the CCG’s fierce Reaper unravel at the simple statement of fact. Haise shoved his hand into his suit pockets and took a moment, it wasn’t as if he was blind, or that he was unaware, but seeing that smug bastard taunt him with his own failings, his own weakness…

“It’s not like you were any better.”

“Oh, wasn’t I?! Oh, I forget, how are the Quinx doing? Your family? Akira? Arima? How are they all, Haise?”

Haise felt the rage boiling over within him, his fists clenched and his muscles tensed, he didn’t need fucking reminding of everything that he’d fucked up and especially not from his guy,  he composed himself momentarily making  sure only to face his former self when he could put on the coldest smile he could muster,

“Amazing! Now they don’t have to worry about me, and I’m making sure not to involve them in anything dangerous, they can all take care of themselves,”

“Always the excuses, oh, they’ll be fine,” Kaneki teleported on a whim, materialising on the other side of the room, “They don’t need me around, they never did, woe is me.” Kaneki teleported again.

This wasn’t the swift and sleek kind of teleportation you’d assume from a non-corporeal manifestation inside one’s head, it was unwieldy, a mess of guts and slop breaking down, disappearing into the floor and amalgamating somewhere else.

“Just admit it, you just wanna pity yourself”

“Shut up-” Haise said, his voice almost pleading.

“For once, be honest Haise, Kaneki, whatever you wanna call yourself, admit it, the only reason we’re here right now is because of you-”

“Because of me?! Haise snapped, lunging forward with his fist smashing against Kaneki’s chest, Kaneki took a weary step back, balancing himself, and coughing up some blood before looking at Haise, his eyes questioning with a glint of satisfaction behind them,

“Was all of this really my fault?! If you would have just stuck to the plan,” another punch left Haise’s grasp as he pushed Kaneki to the ground, placing his knees either side of his waist as a flurry of blows found their way to Kaneki’s face.

“If you would have just fucking died!” Haise growled as Kaneki started back at him, his face wide with a grin and his eyes livelier than he’d ever seen them. Why was he so happy? Was this all a fucking joke? Of course, it was. All of this “pain”, this ‘misery’, it was all a farce, he was a farce. Haise pulled the white-haired man before him near his face until their noses were almost touching,

“This is how pathetic you really are, Ken Kaneki, you couldn’t even fucking die right.” He spat shoving the now hurt but still silent man against the cold, dirty floor. The room seemed to have shrunk during all of this, the floor now lined with a shimmering black liquidy substance, bubbling and oozing with a life of its own, eyes dotting the walls that were all directed at the scene before them.

“Isn’t it funny how it always ends up like this,” Kaneki mused, “Abandoning everything we love, all alone, fighting a fight that no one asked us to, same mistakes, different people,” Kaneki started right at Haise through the haze of blood of shattered bones, “but, its not like people matter to you, right? As long as you can feel a little less lonely, Ken Kaneki.”

Haise wrapped his fingers around Kaneki’s neck, his fingers slowly contorting around the mans meek and stiff skin as Kaneki let out a muffled chuckle. Haise’s grip tightened, the room was still, the air dense. Haise’s chest filled with what seemed like the same inky liquid that covered the floors as he choked the life out of the man that lay before him, the architect of all of his pain, himself. He felt Kaneki’s body flail and convulse, his neck strain against his grip as he unrelentingly pushed, harder and harder. All the while Haise stared into Kaneki’s eyes, as the eyes on the walls stared at them.

Haise felt the resistance against his fingers recede as the warmth from beneath them dissipated, the eyes underneath his grip were now seeing their last as the body he sat atop of reduced its flailing succumbing to its deepest wishes,

“Thank y-” Kaneki, breathed his last as he sank into the ground. Haise sat there, in that empty room, alone once again taking in the events before him until a muffled laughter filled with tears escaped him,

“You were always so selfish, weren’t you? Couldn’t let me be the one to go, huh?” Haise said before being drenched in a thick, murky substance from above as he too sank into the floor, drowning in the void of his own creation, only to remember he would be awoken another day and realising that even a fate like this was better than having to wake up again. 

* * *

Haise Sasaki lay on his bed, turned to his left side, his legs curled up against his chest as his arms clutched them even closer, his entire body shivering, covered in a sheen of sweat. This was the only way Haise Sasaki could sleep. If life would not allow him to stop reliving all of his failings, maybe he could relive his biggest failing himself. After all, it always came back to him.


End file.
